Does It Have To Be A Girl?
by Anderida
Summary: "You know what I want." Derek's raised eyebrow gave an ambiguity to his words that Stiles didn't feel wholly at ease with. Set early Season 2 Some bad language. Part 1 of "Does It Have To Be" Trilogy


A/N:_ Early Season 2-ish? No spoilers. Some bad language. Stiles Stilinski. Derek Hale. Brief mention of Lydia, Danny, Scott, Allison and a Dalek. One-shot?_

_Disclaimer: Teen Wolf is not mine. Stiles and Derek do not belong to my pack but are cordially invited to play in my fertile imagination anytime. Oh, that's right; they do! ;-)_

**Does It Have To Be A Girl?**

"Why do you try so hard?"

Stiles jumped at the sudden voice behind him. Derek Hale. That man must be fitted with oiled castors. Maybe he'd been a Dalek in a former life? Hey, Derek the Dalek! Stiles sighed and shook his head to clear it.

"Try what?" he asked, not knowing why he was bothering.

"The girl."

Stiles watched as Lydia disappeared around the corner of the school building.

"And this is your business, why, exactly?" he asked the older man.

"It's just I see you knocking your head against that particular brick wall and I wonder why you persist when you must know you're wasting your time."

"Teenager!" Stiles stated by way of explanation, gesturing at himself with expansive hand movements. He turned abruptly and strode past the man without looking at him, heading back to his Jeep.

"But you know she's not interested." It was a statement, not even allowing the potential for doubt that phrasing it as a question would have given the words. That alone irritated Stiles. He stopped suddenly and whipped round to face the man he realised was now following him.

"My love life, or lack thereof, is none of your business. I suggest you shut the fuck up!" Stiles felt unaccountably angry.

Derek cranked an eyebrow. "Touchy," he observed with a grin.

"What the hell is it to do with you? In fact, why are you even here?"

"I was looking for you."

"Well, you've found m … Wait a minute! Me? Why?" Stiles narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"I need you to give Scott a message for me," Derek said evenly.

"What? Don't wolves use phones now? Oh yeah, they do. I know this because … Scott has one!"

"Yes, he has. And he also has an Argent clamped to his side these days."

"Oh." Stiles mentally conceded the point. That was the reason he rarely phoned Scott himself now. In fact, since Scott had got himself superglued to Allison, Stiles often felt as if he had lost his best friend, his confidante, altogether. He doubted he'd have the opportunity to regale Scott's sympathetic ear with his latest Lydia-induced humiliation anytime soon. It wasn't easy to have a simple heart-to-heart when there was now a third heart in the equation.

Derek trampled over Stile's inner dialogue. "My message is for Scott only. Make sure no-one overhears. He needs to meet me tomorrow at seven. He knows where. He can't tell anyone, particularly not Chris' daughter. Oh, and you will be his alibi."

"I will, will I?"

"Yes, you will. You'll cover for him tomorrow; say he's with you."

Stiles couldn't believe that he was being dragged into some cloak and dagger enterprise that he knew nothing about. He may miss having Scott's undivided attention but he liked Allison and didn't want to lie to her. How arrogant of Derek to just assume his compliance, his connivance.

"Jeez, Derek," Stiles threw his hands up theatrically. "You've got some nerve! You come here to use me as a walking encrypted text message, making me an unwitting accomplice in something you don't trust me enough to tell me about – which is fine, by the way, because I _so_ don't want to know – and rather than say 'please' and 'thank you', you have a good laugh at my pathetic attempt to get Lydia interested in me, even if it was on the pretext of helping with history revision. Well, 'thank you' Mr Hale, but no thanks. Find Scott yourself and keep out of my sad joke of a sex life."

Stiles pivoted on his heel and turned away to continue striding back to his car, but a hand clamped over his arm and spun him back round.

"What the fuck, Derek?" He really didn't have time for this. All he wanted to do was to go home and forget about his failure to convince Lydia to go study with him. To forget that she'd turned him down – again.

"I wasn't laughing." Derek was looking at where his hand was gripping Stiles arm.

"Technically, no, there was no actually laughter involved. But you grinned, and that's like full out hysteria in anyone else. Not cool."

Stiles shifted his weight to his other foot, feeling awkward for some reason that must have to do with the strangeness of standing in a deserted school parking lot, talking to an Alpha werewolf about the epic failure that was his love life, whilst internally pining for the company of his currently unavailable bestie.

"I didn't laugh and I wasn't making fun. I thought perhaps you didn't know that she's not into you." Derek's voice was low and his eyes flicked up at Stiles' face just once before going back to inspect the place where his hand crossed Stiles' sleeve.

This struck Stiles as peculiar behaviour. He couldn't remember Derek ever holding onto him in this way before, which was perhaps why it was so unsettling.

"The whole school knows she's not interested in me. Hell, even _I_ got that message. But I'm a teenager and she's the only girl who'll even talk to me. So I keep trying. What else can I do?" Stiles shrugged, feeling the need to move away.

"Look elsewhere?" Derek's voice had an odd quality to it that Stiles couldn't place but at least he now released his arm.

"Where? The two dozen other schools I go to? Oh, that's right I don't. And _I'm _supposed to be the idiot here!" Stiles began to turn back towards his car.

"Does it have to be a girl?"

Stiles stopped mid turn.

Did Derek just say what he thought he just said? He tipped his head to one side and looked back over his shoulder at Derek who was regarding him impassively, as though he'd just asked him for the time.

"I'm not going to read anything into that question, for both our sakes," Stiles began slowly. "But, so we're clear, I asked Danny if I was attractive to guys. He wouldn't say, so I guess I got my answer. And I've no idea why I've just shared that with you but … Anyway, I have a history test to study for."

Stiles continued across the empty parking lot, shaking his head. This was turning into a really weird evening, and that's by Beacon Hills standards. At least it had prepared him not to be that surprised to see Derek waiting for him at the Jeep. An unnatural turn of speed was werewolf stock-in-trade and he'd got used to Scott racing everywhere without breaking sweat.

"You again," Stiles groused, as he stopped a few feet in front of the Alpha. "What do you want now?"

"You know what I want." Derek's raised eyebrow gave an ambiguity to his words that Stiles didn't feel wholly at ease with.

"I do?" Stiles was beginning to feel like Alice trying to have a sensible conversation with the Mad Hatter.

"Yes. I need you to tell Scott to meet me tomorrow at seven."

"Oh, yeah, 'course, Scott, right," Stiles mumbled, feeling foolish for forgetting.

"You'll tell him." It was probably a question, but it could have been a command.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll tell him. What the hell. I'll swing past his place on my way home now." It just seemed easier to agree.

"Thank you."

_Wow_, Stiles thought, not entirely sarcastically, _I got a 'thank you'_ _from the Sour Wolf._

Derek stepped forward into Stiles' personal space then.

"Stiles," he said without inflection.

"Yeah?" Stiles replied cautiously, wondering at the nervousness he felt, and then panicking a bit in case Derek could sense it too. Derek's proximity was crowding him and he had the uncomfortable feeling that he was now the dormouse being stuffed into the teapot.

"Scott spends a lot of time with Allison. Time you used to spend with him before he hooked up with her?"

"Yeah, but … hey! There was nothing like that between us, if that's what you mean."

"No, that wasn't what I meant," Derek's voice was hard, but Stiles could see him struggle to keep the corners of his mouth from curling up. "I meant that, since Scott is otherwise engaged, perhaps you miss having … a friend to … discuss things with. Like what happened with Lydia."

When Stiles didn't say anything, mainly because he couldn't marshal his thoughts in any way that made any sort of sense, and he half suspected Derek was reading his mind anyway, Derek continued, "Well, if you needed to talk, you could talk to me. I would listen."

Stiles stared, eyes big and round. "Um, noted, and, you know, um, 'preciate the offer, I guess."

"I could help with your history test too."

"Why?" It was all Stiles could think of to say because his brain seemed to have short-circuited. He needed to get a better handle on what the hell was going on here. He didn't want to presume anything in case he made a monumental fool of himself, which, you know: Stiles here!

"You're doing me a favour getting a message to Scott and covering for him. I know lots about history. Maybe I can help. Return the favour."

"The test is tomorrow," Stiles stated flatly.

"Then I'll come with you now. You can give Scott my message while I wait in the car and then we can go back your place to study." And then Derek was walking round to the passenger side of the Jeep.

Stiles blanched. Oh-kay, so Derek has just invited himself for a ride-along and a study date. No, not a date. Bad choice of word. Well, he probably did know his history, right? But what was with the, 'I'll listen if you want to talk' stuff? What was that all about?

Then he felt his face reddening.

Stiles unlocked his driver's door, climbed into the Jeep and leant across to unlock the other door. Derek got in and fastened his seat belt without a word. Stiles started the car and, as he pulled onto the road, he briefly glanced across at Derek. He thought he didn't look as scowl-y as usual.

"In answer to your question," Stiles said quietly, appearing to address the windshield.

"My question?" Derek queried.

"No. It doesn't have to be a girl."

~ FIN ~


End file.
